


Said and Done

by runicmagitek



Category: Final Fantasy VIII
Genre: Abandonment, Angst with a Happy Ending, Awkward Conversations, Background Relationships, Childhood Memories, Father-Son Relationship, Gen, Post-Canon, Starting Over
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-08
Updated: 2018-09-08
Packaged: 2019-07-08 17:42:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,025
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15935222
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/runicmagitek/pseuds/runicmagitek
Summary: Squall lived his life without a father until the man he encountered in dreams claims to be just that. With the threat of Ultimecia banished and time restored, maybe now they can mend wounds once inflicted by absence.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [silveradept](https://archiveofourown.org/users/silveradept/gifts).



The ocean reflected the drifting clouds within the bright sky. Salt imbued the constant breeze, almost tangible in its presence. Somewhere in the distance were fishermen exchanging idle, yet pleasant chatter while waiting for a bite on their hooks. Gulls called out to one another, boats bobbed in the water, and he was late.

Absolutely nothing out of the ordinary.

Squall heaved out a sigh and plopped down, feet dangling over the bridge. How long had he been waiting? Thirty minutes? An hour? Perhaps several? It plucked his nerves nonetheless—both the wait itself and the anxiety insisting this would happen. Of all the matters demanding his attention, this was what he wasted his time on.

Peace didn’t await him or the others upon securing the threat that was the sorceress from the future—a foolish thought, in hindsight. Desperate times formed friendships in the bitterest of rivalries, but fear stirred in the hearts of many who doubted any semblance of a hopeful future. What of the destruction in Galbadia and Esthar in the wake of the madness? If SeeD was meant to fight, then who was there left to confront? What was to become of Garden when the only sorceress to hunt down was the one Squall swore to protect?

Protests against Garden flooded the streets. Endless messages—threats, even—bombarded Squall until he opted to ignore them. A temporary solution, but sometimes fleeting obliviousness was enough to revitalize his sanity.

“ _What_ _’s going to happen?_ ” Rinoa asked the night before he left.

“ _How am I supposed to know?_ ” he shot back, more frustrated at the situation than at her. And yet he continued to uncork and dump his frustrations onto Rinoa.

She never flinched, though; she smiled. Perhaps she was happier knowing he was comfortable enough to reveal anything to her.

Oh, the woes of being in love.

“ _I can_ _’t stay here forever,_ ” she said, wiggling a finger at him.

“ _If you go anywhere,_ ” Squall replied, “ _they_ _’ll hunt you down and drag you—_ ”

“ _Because of what I am._ ”

“ _I didn_ _’t_ say _that._ ”

“ _But that_ _’s why this is even a problem to begin—_ ”

“ _The problem is that they are afraid and refuse to see the good you_ _’ve done._ ” He cupped her face and gazed into those eyes as if they were stars. “ _I wish I could make them change their minds._ ”

She shrugged, her smile fading. “ _You already have a lot on your plate._ ”

“ _It can wait._ ”

“ _But you_ _’re still leaving tomorrow, yeah?_ ”

He failed to not roll his eyes.

“ _I think you should go,_ ” Rinoa murmured, pulling him into a sweet embrace.

“ _Why? I_ _’d think you of all people would be telling me it’s not worth my damn time._ ”

“ _Because everyone deserves a second chance._ ”

“ _And you and Fury?_ ”

“ _We both had a million chances and failed each time, but we tried. But you?_ ” She bumped noses with him. “ _You never had a first one to begin with. And maybe... maybe this will change your mind, too._ ”

Her voice echoed in his head until it bled with the ocean. _Leave it to Rinoa to always find a shred of logic to go with that compassion_ , Squall mused. And he was the idiot who left her behind under Balamb Garden’s care to chase after a second chance. Then again, it was her idea; she wanted the meeting more so than Squall ever did for himself.

Maybe the sentiment differed a decade ago. Abandonment coated him in thick ice; if it meant preventing others from ever hurting him again, then so be it.

Squall drummed fingers against his folded arms while glaring at the water. Every second alone plagued him with toxic thoughts—of dislike tempered into loathing of the fishy stench, of the expanding dilemmas awaiting him upon his return, of memories of carrying Rinoa across that exact bridge, and of how Laguna Loire was never going to be worth his damn time.

Not long after Ultimecia’s defeat and the restoration of time, a personal note from Esthar’s president found its way to Squall’s desk with a simple, yet convoluted suggestion:

_Hey! We should meet up sometime! You know, hang out or what not. Name the time and place and I_ _’ll be there._

How the hell were the President of Esthar and the Commander of Balamb Garden able to _hang out_? Their stuffed agendas demanded attention. Detracting from those expected duties was detrimental, yet Laguna wrote otherwise. Squall had humored the proposal, only to be met with conflicting schedules. Laguna’s radio silence afterwards did little to instill hope that this was, in fact, a promising prospect.

And six months later, they finally agreed on a time and place... and Laguna had yet to show up.

_What a joke,_ Squall thought as he jumped to his feet. _Can_ _’t even stick to a plan that was his idea. Typical. Guess I shouldn’t assume too much from the man who never bothered with me from the get-go._

Rubbing his eyes, he pivoted to head back to Fisherman’s Horizon. Maybe he could still make the last ship departing for Balamb if he headed straight for the docks. No time to stop and eat, either, despite his stomach grumbling otherwise; it would be worth the headache.

The wind picked up in speed. The pulse of the engine was almost lost to the ocean, but the vibrations piercing Squall stopped him in his tracks. He whipped around and spied upon the dreadful sensation’s origin. Further down the bridge, a massive, dragon-shaped vessel hovered midair. It resembled the Ragnarok in design, though functioned more like a drone capable of escorting multiple passengers. As the aircraft settled on the bridge, its engine powered down and the wind resumed its constant, yet soothing flow. It wasn’t enough to ease Squall’s tense muscles.

Stepping out was none other than Laguna himself, flanked by several armored bodyguards.

Squall crossed his arms and waited. _Is he just going to leave that thing there? Does he even have clearance to land on the bridge?_ Rolling his eyes, he dismissed the thoughts; it wasn’t his problem to dwell on.

“Seriously! You guys don’t need to hang around!” Laguna’s cheery voice rattled through Squall. He waved a hand at his bodyguards. “Come on, go hang out in FH. Get some fried fish! We’re not going to cause any trouble.”

The bodyguards glanced at each other until their shoulders slumped in defeat. They marched past Squall and off to... somewhere. He almost wished they stuck around to make the encounter less awkward than it already was. As for Laguna, he trailed behind, flashed a ridiculous smile, and waved.

“Oh man,” he began, “so glad we could finally meet up! I was starting to wonder if it would ever happen, being chained to our duties and all. I can only imagine the work Garden is shoveling onto your plate!”

Squall narrowed his eyes. “You’re _late_.”

That smile faltered, yet Laguna still laughed. “Ah, yeah, about that. Guess directions are still not my strong suit after all these years. Must’ve flown around for—”

“I gave you exact coordinates for the location.” _I know Esthar technology is capable of handling that._

“Uh... you did?” Laguna rubbed his neck, as if to conjure the lost memories. “I don’t remember... or maybe that’s what those string of numbers were from a week ago?”

_And you somehow run an entire metropolis. Unbelievable._

“Well, I’m here now! That’s what counts, right?”

Squall shifted his weight to one leg, perched a hand on his hip, and averted his gaze. What was possibly worse: the silence or the forced chit-chat?

“So... you want to grab something to eat?” Laguna suggested. “My treat! I hear that—”

“Not hungry.”

“Oh, alright! I wasn’t really either.” Another nervous laugh, another plucked nerve. “We could walk around town! Stretch our legs and what not.”

_What does that even mean?_

“Or, um....” The amusement struggled to persist in Laguna’s voice. “Well, we can just stand here, too! Nothing wrong with that. Nice view and everything. There’s uh... a lot of ocean. Like _a lot_ a lot.”

Maybe Esthar’s isolation was to blame, but Squall was beyond acquainted with the life that belonged to Laguna Loire, a man he couldn’t tolerate with every instance Ellone threw them back in time. Nothing had changed; he was still the same, bumbling individual. And Laguna? What did he know of the supposed fairy visiting him over time?

Why would Squall expect anything more than that blissful ignorance?

“So.” Laguna shuffled closer. “How’ve you been?”

The question shot Squall’s eyes wide open. He jerked his head to center and tried not to glare. “Are you serious?”

“I mean... yeah?” Laguna shrugged. “That’s what people ask each other when they haven’t seen each other in a while, right?”

_Except I can count on one hand the times we_ _’ve crossed paths at all._

He sighed and sorted through the scrambled thoughts firing off. “Do you even pay attention to world events?”

“I’ll be honest—since Esthar lowered the barriers and opened communication with the world again, it’s been kind of information overload with everything that’s been going on. I usually skim through it, more than anything, but even the folk in Esthar are indifferent to what’s going on outside of their bubble. Like... a figurative bubble.” He chuckled. “Don’t have a literal bubble over us anymore!”

“Then I guess you skimmed over Garden dominating the headlines and the nonstop protests?”

“Oh... yeah, I might have heard something about that.”

“And you think the Commander is enjoying it?”

“I didn’t read anything about the—” He blinked. “Oh, that’s you! Right, of course! Yikes. So, uh... how are—”

“I’m just _fine_ ,” Squall growled through a clenched jaw. “Thanks for asking.”

The silence was almost tangible, enough to choke Squall.

“Alright, no job discussion. Got it.” Laguna lifted his hand for a thumbs up. “Don’t blame you. Not exactly my favorite thing to talk about either.” He paused. “Hey! How’s Rinoa? I haven’t seen her since... since, um... well....”

“Since we went off to face Ultimecia?”

“Yeah, that.” The excitement died in those words. “She doing alright now?”

_Are you trying to tick me off with these questions?_ Squall pinched the bridge of his nose, inhaled, and spoke. “Considering half the world wants her frozen and locked away out of fear of a repeat disaster, she’s more or less on the same page as I am in terms of wellness.” _Albeit handling it better than I am... on most days._

“I can’t imagine that’s possible.”

“ _What_?”

“I mean... half the world? That’s a lot of people, right? I’m sure it’s not _actually_ half the world. Maybe some people do, but—”

“When was the last time you looked at surveys within Esthar, let alone Balamb or Dollet or Timber or Deling City? People have been quite _loud_ about their feelings on Garden harboring the only known sorceress alive.”

“Yeah, but... not _all_ of them want to freeze and lock her up. Rinoa’s a sweet girl! She wouldn’t massacre people overnight.”

Squall shrugged. “You did it to Adel. They have that sorceress trait in common. That’s enough reason for some people.”

“Then maybe I can do something to convince people otherwise.”

“Like what you did for Seifer?”

Laguna froze, every muscle in his face dragging down. “That... that was different.”

“Really?”

“I was put on the spot and maybe I didn’t pick the best words to illustrate the scenario, but I’ve got an actual writer now to help with the speeches. It wasn’t something I had to put much thought into before.”

“And now he’s locked up in an Esthar facility forever.”

“At least he’s not dead?”

_Whatever...._

“But... Rinoa will be fine. I know she will. Girl’s got a lot of fight in her!”

Squall wandered back to the edge of the bridge. _How am I supposed to know she_ _’ll be fine? For all I know, tomorrow will be another war and I’ll need to decide whether or not I abandon Garden to flee with her. What does it mean to be fine, anyways? Not dead, like Seifer? What kind of life is that? Yeah, what he did was horrific, but that wasn’t his own doing. He needed help, not punishment. Are people going to treat Rinoa the same way?_ He crossed his arm and lowered his head. _Are you going to mess up her life, too? Just like you did with Seifer?_

_Like you did for me?_

“I guess I don’t have to tell you to treat her well,” Laguna spoke in the sweep distance. “You’ve already got that covered! Ah, young love.... Enjoy it while you can!”

“Before I go and break her heart by abandoning her forever?” Squall peered past his shoulder. “Just like you?”

Whatever joy that lived in Laguna’s features died out. Not even a chipper retort followed behind Squall’s cold words.

“What... are you talking about?” Laguna finally asked.

“Of course you forgot.”

His face scrunched together, yet his lips trembled. “Forgot what?”

“Do you even know who she is? Rinoa?”

Nothing. _Figures_ _…._

“You met up with her mother for one, romantic night and then disappeared without a word.”

The realization flashed across Laguna’s face. “Julia. But how—” A chuckle laced his exhale as he tapped his temple. “Yeah, that’s right. The fairies paying a visit.”

“Did she not matter to you?”

“She....” Fidgeting in place, Laguna cast his eyes to his feet. “Look, why don’t we talk about something—”

“Was it just easier for you to run away?”

Laguna jerked upright and locked sights with Squall. “I didn’t run away. I was a soldier; I had no choice.”

“Then why get her hopes up?”

“I wasn’t trying to—” He shook his head. “What does this have to do with us? It’s in the past. We can’t change it. You and I both know that, right?”

“We make mistakes so we can learn from them, but did you?” Squall returned his focus to the ocean. “Was Raine any different from Julia?”

He almost didn’t call her by that name—almost. Who was he to bestow a tender title to a woman he never knew? _She gave me life,_ Squall reminded himself, _nothing more. Same goes for you._

“Squall, look... it wasn’t an easy situation. Either I stayed with Raine and ignored the danger Ellone was in or I tracked down Ellone and left Raine to her own devices. I didn’t like my options. I try not to dwell on them. There was nothing I could do.”

“You could have told her you were okay after securing Ellone—give her some peace of mind.”

“How was I to do that? I wasn’t in the position to be—”

Squall whirled around, closed the distance between them, and bellowed, “You were the fucking President of Esthar! If anyone was in the position to do something, it was _you_! And all you chose to do was sit back and twiddle your thumbs!”

Laguna winced. “Squall, it’s not that easy,” he said, still gripping onto whatever composure remained. “I’m more of a figurehead while others process what should be done. Even if I told them every day to take down that bubble, they wouldn’t allow it.”

“So you sat there and let them walk over you?!”

“No, that’s not—”

“You could have left! You’re a damn soldier! You managed to sneak your way into Esthar, but you couldn’t find a way out?! Did you not worry about Raine? Did you not worry about _anyone_ you ever met except your—”

“Of course I worried about her!” he yelled, his voice cracking midway. “It was never my intention to abandon her. I thought of her every day. I still do.”

The rage within Squall simmered to a contained ire. “Did you even know she was pregnant?”

He wished he hadn’t agreed to this. He wished he had never crossed paths with Laguna, whether in the flesh or across multiple dreams. He wished he didn’t know what he knew now to shield himself from the anguish. He wished for it all to be over.

He wished he never brought it up to begin with.

Stepping back, Laguna shoved his nervous hands into his pockets. “Is this what you want to talk about?”

Squall bit his tongue. What was there to even discuss anymore? They were mere strangers with a threadbare connection bound by blood. It didn’t make them friends, let alone family. How were they to bond when nothing clicked? Squall stared at Laguna and found a man he had no interest in forming anything with, a man that aggravated him more than delighted.

A man he swore he would never become.

“Yeah, we had plans,” Laguna said, softer than the wind. “Maybe not exactly _those_ kind of plans, but... we wanted to have a life together and I was prepared for whatever that entailed. Had I known... I’m not sure what I would have done, Squall. What I do know is that I messed up no matter what angle you look at it. I wasn’t a good husband, running off not long after we sealed the deal. You and Ellone deserved better than that. Always did. But if I learned anything from these years is that you can’t change the past. Tried to, but... yeah.

“And I’m sure this is as awkward for you as it is for me, but I want to do what’s right. I want you to know that I’m here for you no matter what. I want to be your father—”

Whatever Laguna uttered past that dulled to nothing for Squall. Raw fury ignited in his blood until the world bled red. He clenched both his hands and jaw, shoulders hardening like armor. It was a familiar sensation, one which forged him into the lone wolf within Garden; it all started on a porch, alone in the rain.

“Don’t say that!” Squall roared back. “Don’t you _ever_ say that! You don’t get to show up in my life almost two decades after the fact and call yourself a _fucking father_! That’s not how this works! I don’t care if you’re the one who knocked up Raine. You know what _does_ matter? All those times you were never there! Every day that passed without you there was just another reminder that you never cared! I grew up thinking that maybe no one ever wanted me! Maybe I was a mistake or my parents were too disgusted to bother with me! It’s not even that damn complicated; you just need to give a shit! Everyone, from Matron to the Garden instructors, was doing it because it was their job. I wasn’t their son; I was a responsibility. Parents are supposed to love unconditionally. I never knew what that was! Not as a kid, not as a teenager. I thought the world was a cold, lonely place, because everyone dropped me when I was too much work or not convenient to their needs. So I figured fuck everyone and maybe they’ll leave me alone and I’ll never hurt again.

“Do you know how hard it is to unlearn that kind of mentality? Do you even remotely have a _clue_ about the damage you’ve done because you were too busy trying to play nice with the Estharians and not go back to what really mattered? Or did you stay there because it was the first time in your pathetic life that people paid attention and looked up to you to the extent you always wanted? Was Raine loving you not enough of a reason to go back?! For fuck’s sake, you got Ellone back! And yet you couldn’t?! Don’t tell me it was due to your responsibility as president! Don’t you ever feed me those lies while also trying to claim you’re my father!

“You were _never_ my father! Not then and certainly not now! What can you possibly do to make up for all the pain over the years?! You think that meeting up and having a little chat is going to fix all of that? Did you truly believe that you could sweep all that baggage in a corner and hope I never saw it?! I _lived_ chunks of your pathetic life! If you were even half the man you thought you were, you would have told me point blank when we finally met who you really are to me. But no! I had to find out from a vague comment Kiros made! And even then you danced around the topic when I asked you! Why would I want someone like that in my life? How am I to trust your word when every other damn thing that comes out of your mouth is a joke?!

“So do me a favor—forget all of this happened.” He moved past Laguna and back towards Fisherman’s Horizon. “Go back to Esthar, spin around in your office chair all day, and forget me. You were never there when I needed you, so I don’t expect you to be here for me now or ever again.”

“Squall, I....”

Maybe Laguna had more to say. Maybe his voice drifted off to sea with everything else. Squall didn’t hesitate to humor whatever nonsense littered his mind. He marched forward, like he always had, and ignored the world around him.

A vicious headache plagued him. Tension stroked his nerves and blocked out the ambiance of the ocean. Not until he boarded the departing ship did it all melt away, leaving Squall in a trembling panic.

No different from when he was a child.


	2. Chapter 2

“Oh, look at this flower!”

Squall slowed his steps and gazed over his shoulder. Rinoa dropped down to admire an orange and white blossom—a lily, perhaps.

She lifted her head and smiled. “Maybe we can add it with the others?”

He gestured to the massive bouquet he cradled. “We have enough.”

“One more wouldn’t hurt.”

“If we kept picking every flower along the way, we’d get there by sundown.” He sighed—at himself than at her. “Besides... sometimes it’s best to leave those things untouched.”

Rinoa bounced to her feet. “I guess you’re right. It would die if we plucked it. No sense in depriving it of life for my own whims.” She rejoined his side and clung to his arm. “It _is_ pretty, though.”

His lips curled, always for her. “It is. And we can admire it for that much.”

They continued their trek up the steady, yet expansive hill. Not a cloud blotted the sky to shield them from the sun’s harsh rays, but the breeze cooled them down plenty. Loose petals swirled by, whisked away by the wind. The occasional bird offered a song to the open sky. Other than that, the grassy plains were empty and quiet. Like always. Yet another rare instance that left Squall smiling.

“Almost there,” he said to Rinoa.

“You alright?”

“Yeah.” He scanned over the assortment of flowers. “Why?”

“I know this is the first time and—”

“I’ll be fine.”

Upon cresting the hill, that sentiment evaporated.

Slabs of polished stone scattered across the dale. Each marked a different person held within the earth. To be buried and forgotten... it horrified Squall. If only his irrational fears were to blame for the flash of anxiety tightening his chest.

But someone else stood within that peaceful graveyard—someone he recognized.

“We should head back,” Squall said, already pivoting away.

“Wait, what?” Rinoa fluttered her eyes and ran after him. “Squall, we just got here!”

He held his tongue, though his thoughts exploded. _Why is he here? Why did he have to show up after what happened_ _—_

“We’re not going!”

Rinoa jumped in his path. Squall skidded to a halt. Her eyebrows scrunched together and lips turned downward. That expression alone won her countless, mundane arguments.

“You’ve been planning this for a month now, Squall.” She tossed her hands up. “A _month_! I even helped you pick out the pretty flowers!”

He averted his gaze. “They’re just going to die, anyways—”

“Don’t give me that! I’m not letting you leave until you go down there and—”

“You really expect me to do that while _he_ _’s_ there?”

Rinoa stomped towards him, leaving inches between them. His breath hitched and his heart thumped for a new reason. She perched a fist on her hip and pointed a finger at him like a dagger.

“Yes, I do! You can’t keep spending your days avoiding him. I know, you’d certainly _try_ , but what good has that done you? What’s the worst that can happen? He already knows how you feel. Either he ignores you or strikes up a conversation. Big deal! You’re both here for the same reason, yeah? And he deserves to be here as much as you. At least give him that, Squall. You wouldn’t like it if someone else deprived you of this moment, would you?”

Why was she beyond stubborn? Furthermore, why did she always have to be _right_?

“So, what’s it going to be?” Both hands fell to her hips as she cocked her head. “You going to suck it up and do the thing you want to do or be a big baby and go home?”

He narrowed his eyes. “I’m not a baby.”

“Good! So going it is.”

“Rinoa, what are—”

She shoved him back up the hill, exerting more force than necessary. Squall stumbled and shooed her away.

“Alright, alright,” he muttered. “I’m going. Just... don’t cast a stop spell on me once I’m there, okay?”

Rinoa clasped her hands behind her back and wiggled. “No promises!”

“Are you coming?”

She shook her head. “I think I’ll wait up here. Give you some alone time. That helps with reflecting, or so I’ve heard.”

Smacking his face, he heaved out a sigh. _Great._

The solo walk to the grave proved to be more tedious than Squall desired. He paused to gaze back at Rinoa halfway; she paced about without a care in the world, waving to him once she caught his eye.

_I can_ _’t do this,_ he mused. _More like... I don_ _’t want to. I already made my feelings clear. What else is there to say? I can’t fix any of it. Rinoa would say otherwise.... She always makes these types of confrontations easy. I guess... it’s only a confrontation if I want it to be. I don’t have to say anything._ With a deep breath, he lifted his chin. _I won_ _’t say anything._

Past the smaller stones was a massive block, carefully carved and tended to over the years. The sun gleamed off the pristine polish. Squall held up a free hand to shield himself from those rays.

And there he was, casual wear and all, kneeling before Raine’s grave.

Steadying his breaths, Squall circled around and stood beside him, mindful to keep more than an arm’s distance between them. He looked elsewhere, trying his best not to smother the flowers he meticulously arranged that morning.

Not a word left either of them. Squall longed to scream if it meant banishing the anxiety rattling his being.

Laguna rose to his feet and shuffled away. Not far enough to Squall’s liking, which was the other side of the world, but the vacant space allowed him to approach. He hesitated, then walked closer to rest the bouquet before the grave. Several ribbon-tied calla lilies lied there, overshadowed by the grand, eclectic assortment Squall provided.

His eyes fell to the words engraved into the stone. Bare fingertips brushed over the dates. _You were taken too soon from this world,_ he thought. _You deserved to live. I_ _’m sorry none of us could save you, but I’ll never forget you._

But what else was there to do? Outside of resting the flowers by her grave, Squall was short on ideas. Leaving now wasn’t right—or respectful—but was staying any better?

“Ah, you brought her stargazers.”

That voice shot through Squall. He held his breath and balled his hands into fists.

“Those were her favorites.”

Another skip in his heart. This time, Squall listened.

“She always kept some in a window. Changed them out every week. Ellone helped. You know, like you do when you’re a kiddo. Whenever I see them now, I think of her. Tried to find some for today, but none of the shops had any. Figured some regular lilies would do. She’d understand.”

Squall stood slowly, folding his arms while fixing his eyes to the grave. What was there to say? What was the point?

“Quite a spread of flowers you got there!” Laguna chuckled. “I didn’t know they came in so many colors. She’d know every one of them, though.”

_But she doesn_ _’t now, does she?_

“You did good, kid,” Laguna said, his voice trailing off. “You did good.”

There was a warmth there that softened Squall. The sound vibrated in his thoughts like a distant lullaby, almost masking the footsteps inching away. Upon noticing, Squall perked up and spun around.

“You’re leaving?” he asked.

Laguna paused. “Don’t want to be intruding on your time with her.” He smiled, though the warmth already faded.

“You were here before me.”

“Yeah, guess I was.”

“You can stay,” Squall muttered.

“But do you want me to?”

_No,_ was what his instinct told him. Better to avoid confrontation than to face problems head-on. But Squall knew better. Rinoa taught him that much. So did the others from Garden. Although terrifying, sometimes the idea of facing demons was more insurmountable than doing the deed itself. This was no different. He was no longer that scared child yearning for someone to love him.

He was an adult, capable of carving his own destiny. This was his choice and his alone.

Thus he shrugged and Laguna returned to his side.

“We don’t have to talk,” he told Squall.

“Whatever....”

A chuckle trickled from Laguna and nothing more. They stood in silence before the grave, either out of respect or out of obliviousness to cemetery etiquette. Regardless, Squall found mild comfort in that quiescence.

“They _really_ are lovely flowers,” Laguna said after a moment.

“It was Rinoa’s idea.”

“Oh?”

“My doing, though.” He shrugged and brought his gaze to the hill in the distance. “She picked them out and I put it together.”

And there she was, still swirling on the hilltop. The wind danced with her—a simple, yet subtle maneuver of magic.

“Well, you two make a great team,” Laguna said. “I’m glad she’s doing well.”

Those words stung his heart more than he wanted them to. “Yeah.”

“She taking good care of you, too?” After a beat, Laguna’s voice trembled. “Not trying to pry, but... no, never mind. You don’t have to tell me anything. Just worried about you two since what happened with Garden, that’s all.”

Squall’s eyes widen. _Did he just...?_ Pivoting to face Laguna, he opted to let his thoughts flow. “You knew?”

A slight smile teased the corners of Laguna’s lips. “Was kind of the headliner everywhere a few months ago. Hard to miss. I figured you two would drop off the radar, but I still hoped you were okay.”

_He actually read up on that fiasco? I guess it was everywhere, but... that still doesn_ _’t mean he cares. Just a coincidence he stumbled upon it, like everything else._

“We’re... getting by,” Squall offered.

That was putting it lightly. Since the executive decision to terminate all Garden and SeeD functions, the death threats, riots, and animosity disappeared. Then again, so did Squall and Rinoa. He couldn’t stand by an organization conceived to hunt down the one he loved. No matter how many proposals he offered to redesign SeeD’s intention, it did little to quench the fury within the mass public.

Thus he abused his power as commander and erased its existence. He and Rinoa could flee elsewhere, away from the judgmental eyes and live life together without fear dictating their every action. They didn’t have to worry anymore. It was all over.

_I could never strike her down,_ he mused. _Not after what we_ _’ve been through. I’m her knight, after all. I’ll protect her from the world and herself if I have to. Nothing bad will ever happen again._

“We look after each other,” he eased out, surprising himself and Laguna. “We have to. But we’re happy.”

“That’s great. Truly is.” He paused. “I didn’t realize you two relocated to this area.”

“Kind of the point.”

“Yeah, you’re right. Are you... actually _in_ Winhill?”

“Outside.”

“Geez, bit of a trek to make it here, isn’t it?”

“Rinoa brought us.”

“She... what?”

Squall waved a nonchalant hand. “Sorceress stuff.”

“Ah. I guess that would make things easier.” Another pause. “You know, I thought about relocating to Winhill.”

“Why?”

Laguna cocked his head. “Don’t keep up with the news these days?”

“Hard to stay up-to-date out here. Besides... I’d rather not.”

“Yeah, can’t blame you.... Well, I stepped down as president not long after Garden went poof.”

Squall nearly choked on his saliva. The revelation shot through him like an electrical current until he jolted to his full height and faced Laguna straight on.

_After all this time... you dropped it? Like that? But how? And why now? What was the point_ _—_

Laughter broke his train of thought. Laguna dried his eyes and regained composure.

“Wow, I wasn’t expecting _that_ kind of expression! Absolutely priceless! Guess you really didn’t know, did you?”

The shock morphed into frustration. “It’s not funny.”

“I mean, it kind of is.”

With a huff and roll of his eyes, Squall shifted away. “Whatever....”

“Oh, come on! It was a good laugh! Think I needed it more than I thought! Everyone’s been worried about me. Not sure why. I suppose it’s better than the angry backlash. But it’s good to see someone be _not_ that.”

“You didn’t strike me as the type to do your own thing. That’s all.”

“Well... guess I am now, yeah?”

_Guess so._

“Teach an old dog new tricks and all!”

Squall smacked his face.

“I’m kidding! I’m kidding!” After a roll of chuckles, Laguna continued on a more serious note. “Actually settled down in Fisherman’s Horizon, of all places. Thought about staying out here, but... it’s a lot of memories I don’t want to revisit. Some good ones, sure, but I’d be too sad all the time. I actually want to enjoy life for once. That and not have people be in my face all the time and pry about my life in Esthar. FH made sense. Everyone’s lowkey and neutral. Didn’t make any difference that I took up residence there, so long as I paid my bills.”

_Why are you telling me this...._

“Figured I can finally do what makes me happy,” Laguna rambled on. “Might be a little late to the party, or whatever the kids are saying these days, but… it sure as hell wasn’t whatever I was doing in Esthar.”

_What am I supposed to say to that? Congrats?_

“I hope you are, too, Squall. Both you and Rinoa. You two are still young; you got a whole lifetime ahead of you to figure out what to do.”

Squall averted his gaze. “We at least know what we _don_ _’t_ want to do.”

“Hey, that’s more than what most can say!”

Laguna chuckled and Squall stilled his tongue.

The wind picked up and flowed over them. The grass and flowers swayed in the breeze. Several clouds rolled by the sun, though did little to damper the otherwise flawless weather.

“You know, it’s… kind of funny, in an odd sense.”

Squall flicked blue eyes in Laguna’s direction. “How?”

“I’ve been here before and… well, I haven’t visited as often as I wanted to, but I thought I’d have this figured out by now. You know, what to do or say or what not. No one gives you an instruction manual after someone’s passed away. People kind of pat you on the back, say they’re sorry, and fade away. No one tells you that it will hit you months after the fact. No one tells you it’s okay to cry then or years later. No one tells you the most random of scents will remind you of that someone. No one tells you anything except, ‘I’m sorry for your loss.’”

“Yeah,” Squall found himself murmuring.

“And I guess we all go about it differently, yeah? Some people cry, others scream. Some want to talk about it and have friends over and the rest want to shut out the whole world. And I don’t know if I’m supposed to talk to her or something as if she can hear me or just put some flowers down and be done with it. I mean, half these graves don’t even _have_ flowers. So do people not visit here? Do they forget and move on?”

_I_ _… I don’t know. I almost don’t_ want _to know._

“And it’s like, I can’t do that. The forgetting and moving on, yeah? I did some messed up things in my life and led people on— _good_ people, at that. _Way_ better than me and yet they deemed me worthy of their time. And I might have been distracted by a moogle flying by, but I never meant to forget, or at least make others think I did that. How could I possibly forget? Why would I? I’ve met so many fantastic individuals that inspired me to be better than the dope I was and always will be. And those people deserve so much better—people like Kiros and Ward and Julia and Raine and Ellone and you and—”

_Don_ _’t do this._ Squall closed his eyes. _Why are you_ _—_

“I don’t want to forget anyone. I want to remember and celebrate those moments shared together, even if they aren’t around anymore to do so. Maybe… maybe they’ll know in spirit. Maybe that’s enough, yeah?” Laguna sighed and hung his head. “Maybe that’s why I beat myself up and force myself to come here. I don’t want her to think I forgot this time. I already made her think that, but…. I don’t know. This kind of thing is hard. I’m not cut out for being sentimental and coherent in a single sentence.” He snickered at himself, albeit half-heartedly. “Maybe that’s why I couldn’t ever get into the journalism gig. Half my thoughts are just shit and no one ever bothered to stick around to see if it ever made sense. Maybe all I ever wanted was to matter somewhere… or to someone. Even if it was a little bit.”

His breath skittered in his dry throat. Loosening his clenched hands, Squall opened his eyes, focused on the grave. Silent tears slipped down his face and descended to his boots.

“How do you do it?” Squall muttered.

“Hmm?” Laguna leaned towards him. “Do what—”

“ _This_. Talk and act like nothing’s happened, like everything’s _okay_ when it’s not.”

Feet shifted through the grass. Squall refused to give him eye contact, yet that didn’t stop Laguna from approaching.

“Because when you’ve been through a lot and then some,” Laguna said gently, “you start to notice what you should have been appreciating in life. Even when nothing is remotely okay, you still know it could have been worse, yeah? But you were able to handle it a hundred times before, so what’s a hundred and one times? We learn from our mistakes and we either chose to wallow or thrive. I don’t smile because I’m outgoing and optimistic all the time; it’s because I know what it’s like to be broken and I don’t wish that on anyone else.

“And I’m still learning from mistakes even now. I’m human, after all. We both are. Anyone who expects anything more is delusional, plain and simple.”

“You make it sound so easy.”

“It’s really not, though,” Laguna chuckled out. “It’s never a matter of easy or hard; it’s just life.”

“And you keep that act up.”

“Keep… what up?”

Squall stared at Laguna, blinking back the tears he desperately longed to banish.

“After what happened with us last time,” Squall tried not to cough up, “you act like it never happened and babble about random shit that doesn’t even matter. Why? Is it a game to you or something?”

Nothing but a soft smile graced Laguna’s features.

“Because I know what it’s like to have others invalidate what you’re truly feeling. I was never brave enough, never aggressive enough, never serious enough.... You shouldn’t have to live your whole life pleasing others; you should just be you. Nothing more. You don’t need to understand what others are going through, but you can respect and acknowledge it. You can let them know you’ll be there for them when the storm’s over, right?

“So if you’re still mad at me? If you still hate me? That’s okay. I get it. I’d rather you yell at me if that means you can find some peace. You’ve been through a lot, Squall.” His hand settled onto Squall’s shoulder. “I can’t even begin to imagine everything you’ve been thrown into, but you know what I do know? I’m really proud of how far along you’ve come. Raine would be proud, too. It kills me to know I was never there for any of it and never will be, but I got nothing but time now. So maybe not right this instant... or tomorrow... or even next year... but whenever it is, if ever, I’m here for you. Hell, maybe I’ll be six feet under by the time you feel comfortable, who knows. It’s all the same.”

“But why?”

Laguna’s lips curled up. “Why not? You’re my son, after all.”

He yearned to scream and pound fists against Laguna’s chest. How could he forget the animosity Squall spewed out months ago? How could he still face him with a smile and open heart, after all of that?

None of it made any sense.

“You’ve been a shitty excuse for a father,” Squall grumbled in between sniffles.

“Yeah, I know.… I’m a work in progress.” His eyes shifted elsewhere. “I... think I’ve outstayed my welcome. I can give you some space. Don’t want to overwhelm you at—”

His hand fell from Squall. Laguna pivoted away and Squall snatched his forearm to jerk back. Laguna blinked and regained composure.

“Don’t,” Squall said, shaking his head. “Don’t go running off, like you always do.” _Don_ _’t leave me again, asshole._

He didn’t expect the arms enveloping him. He didn’t expect the tender hug. He didn’t expect the tears to cascade from his shut eyes.

“I’m right here, kiddo,” Laguna whispered. “It’s alright. I promise.”

With a sharp breath, Squall clung onto Laguna and wept. The wind carried his cries elsewhere, nothing but mere echoes in the unknown.


	3. Chapter 3

The ocean dared to drown out the merchants shouting their wares to lure potential customers in, no different from the fish they caught. Those honeyed words never penetrated Squall; he maneuvered through the sparse crowds to the heart of Fisherman’s Horizon. The early evening sun caught in the windows and solar panels scattered across rooftops, but the blinding light did little to deter him.

Squall knew the path by now.

Recycled metals and glass comprised the winding staircase he scaled, mirroring the repurposed fishing boats and materials blended into the foundations of Fisherman’s Horizon. The locals caught up in household chores paused to greet Squall. He nodded back, readjusted the backpack he carried, and marched forward. Tucked in the corner of the district’s upper level was a quiet nook comprised of a single home.

Approaching the white, wooden door, Squall struck a loose fist against the loose structure. After a pause, a muffled voice sounded from within.

“What’s the password?”

Squall slumped his shoulders, smacked his face, and sighed.

“Oh come on!” the voice continued. “You’re no fun!”

“Whatever....”

Several locks clicked in succession until the door swung open. Laguna stood in the doorway, clad in shorts, a t-shirt, and an open button-down.

“Well, you guessed right,” Laguna said with a wide grin and open arms.

“Not like you’ve changed it,” Squall pointed out.

“Fair enough, but at least you haven’t forgotten.”

Squall quirked up an eyebrow. _And you haven_ _’t changed one bit, either._

“So,” Laguna added on, “you going to come in and stay for a while?”

Shaking his head, Squall managed to smile, even a little bit. “Might as well.”

Laguna stepped aside and Squall entered the abode. Off-white, sandy tan, and faded turquoise colored the rustic, yet minimalistic interior. The kitchen bled into the living area with the bedroom and office lofted above. Seashells and beach glass in worn bottles graced various shelves constructed from old palettes. Vivid mosaics adorned the ajar balcony door, welcoming the sea breeze to play with the wind chimes. Something small, yet well-lived in. No different from his place outside of Winhill.

“Don’t just stand there,” Laguna mentioned, patting him on the shoulder. “Make yourself at home! I can only imagine you had a long trip!” He circled around the island to the fridge. “Can I grab you something to drink? I got... well, let’s see....”

“I picked up something.”

“Oh?”

Slinging his backpack off, Squall perched it carefully on the island to unzip. He rummaged through clothing and toiletries to pluck out two, pint-sized bottles wrapped up at the bottom.

Upon unraveling them, Laguna gasped. “Where did you find those?! Never mind that—how do you sneak them past customs?!”

Squall smirked slightly. “People see the scar and try not to ask too many questions.”

Laguna whistled. “Well I’m not going to complain, that’s for sure.” He scanned over a bottle. “Hard root beer straight out of Winhill. Can only get it there, too. This is one of my favorites.”

“So I’ve heard.”

With a grin, Laguna procured a bottle opener. “Why don’t we enjoy these before customs comes banging on my door?”

The bottles hissed open. They bumped their drinks together and took a swig. A delightful sigh spilled out of Laguna.

“Just like I remembered,” he said, nostalgia coating his words. “Raine had trouble keeping these in stock. Then again, I was always trying to swipe some for myself.”

Squall cracked a smile. “I can see why they’re popular.”

“Thanks again.” Laguna lifted his bottle for emphasis. That smile of his warmed up. “You didn’t have to smuggle these in.”

“I’ve done worse.” He shrugged and gulped down more of the delicious liquid. “No skin off my back, anyways.”

After a pause, Laguna perked up. “Oh, I bet you’re starving after that trip! I should work on some chow. Even got something special for tonight.”

“Don’t go breaking your back over it.”

“Hey now, it’s a successful meal if I don’t burn down the kitchen.”

“Or give us food poisoning.”

The two snickered before assuming their duties: Laguna rifling the fridge and Squall providing moral support on the endeavor. They chatted while Laguna cut potatoes and wrangled two, massive lobsters into a pot of boiling water, all while nursing their drinks. What once bored Squall to tears now captivated his attention. The chronic anxiety which resided throughout his mercenary and leader days vanished; for once, he could enjoy a simple conversation.

“So if I keep getting submissions,” Laguna said while sauteing root vegetables, “I think this thing can finally launch. I’m still shocked people expressed interest in it to begin with, but... hey, it keeps me busy, right?”

“Can’t say I pictured you editing your own literary magazine, but I also didn’t imagine you as president, so maybe it’s not too far-fetched.”

Laguna chuckled. “Yeah, I know. It’s not really journalism, either, but I’m so sick of the news. Journalism isn’t really the same, not since Esthar started sharing technology with the rest of the world. The way people communicate these days? It’s lightning fast. No one slows down to figure out the facts, if they even have any to begin with. Makes you want to relish something that someone actually put their heart into, you know?”

“Yeah.”

“I imagine it’s still quiet out where you are, though. At least for now.”

“It will never be like Garden,” Squall mentioned with a shrug. “Everything feels like a downgrade from that, but I don’t think I’d go back to that kind of life.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Laguna almost whispered. “Speaking of which, how’s Rinoa and the grandkiddos?”

Raising his eyebrows, Squall shifted to poke through his bag and unveil a stack of photographs. Laguna took a skillet off the heat and returned to the island. A pleasant squeal shot out of him.

“Oh my goodness! Look at those widdle faces! They’re getting so big!”

Squall smirked and rolled his eyes. “And a handful.”

Laguna flipped through the photographs, each one a different shot in the open fields, where four dogs of various breeds played together. Squall slept on a couch in several pictures, where a fluffy cat also napped on his chest.

“Did Rinoa take these?” Laguna asked.

“Yeah, she’s still photographing. Mostly in her spare time. I think she’s worried that if she pursues it as anything beyond a hobby, then she’ll need to interact with more people and... yeah.”

“She still nervous?”

“I wouldn’t say that, but she has her doubts, even if she doesn’t voice them. It’s been a peaceful lull. Maybe too peaceful.”

“Yeah, tell me about it,” Laguna murmured as he scanned through the photographs a second time. “Lovely work. I’m glad she’s got a creative outlet. Her mom would have been proud.”

A haze clouded Squall’s eyes, yet he managed to smile. “She would.”

“And what about you?” He waved the napping pictures about. “You just sleeping away the days or something?”

Squall snorted. “I’ve been helping out in Winhill whenever I can. The um... the orphanage there.”

“Yeah?”

“There’s a couple of kids, old enough to enlist in Garden if it was still around. I’ve been teaching them a few things, mostly survival basics and discipline.”

“Awww, look at you bonding with the kiddos!”

He shoved Laguna away upon being nudged. “It keeps them busy and out of trouble, that’s all.”

“I’m sure they love you!”

“I guess. I don’t know.”

“I mean, they must appreciate someone who’s... well, you know....”

“Been through that shit?”

“Well, maybe not literally, but yeah, more or less.”

Squall averted his gaze, swishing the remaining liquid in his bottle. “Yeah. Something like that.”

Water overflowed from the boiling pot and hissed against the stove top. Laguna cursed under his breath, rushing over to salvage what he could. Several snarky retorts popped into Squall’s mind. He ignored every last one.

“Well, dinner should be almost ready!” Laguna said while fussing with plates and silverware. “You want to eat outside? Nothing beats watching the sunset from that balcony!”

Squall shrugged. “That’s fine.”

“Awesome! Go get comfy out there. I’ll bring this spread out in a bit.”

Hopping off his stool, Squall shuffled to the balcony door, squeezed past it, and marveled at the view. Nothing but ocean flooded the vicinity. The sun hovered above the horizon, basking the world in a fiery glow. Light reflected off of the constant waves, no different from the mosaics embellishing Fisherman’s Horizon. Squall leaned into the wooden railing as the wind combed through his already tousled hair.

It didn’t matter how many years passed since time realigned from the disruption that was time compression—the feeling persisted. A dense, yet hazy confusion that followed him in daily activities. How was he to know what was normal, let alone if he was doing it right? Household chores, idle interactions, and even moments of nothingness... something was amiss from them. Or so Squall convinced himself. After years training for combat, he resigned himself to the countryside for something simpler, calmer. Maybe it took some time to adjust, but the months crawled by without a single glimpse of hope.

_Maybe I_ _’m not actually cut out for this,_ Squall thought. _I guess the kids look up to me. And Rinoa is enjoying the solitude, even if the locals have added two and two together. That_ _’s all normal, right? As is this. It has to be._ He rubbed his eyes. _Hell if I know. Guess we_ _’re both trying, anyways._

The wind chime clanked about as the door groaned open. Squall peeked behind him to find Laguna balancing their steaming plates and two hard ciders straight from Timber’s breweries.

“Sorry for the wait!” Laguna said, gradually inching to Squall. “Hope it’s all worth it.”

He grabbed his share of dinner. “I’m sure it is.”

Together, they plopped down to munch on steamed lobster, mashed potatoes, and seasoned vegetables, all smothered in butter. Their legs dangled off the balcony while the sun kissed the ocean from beyond.

“It must’ve been horrible,” Laguna teased, eyeing Squall’s half-finished plate.

“We don’t get seafood like this by us,” Squall mumbled through a full mouth.

“Ah, that’s right. Kind of a hike to the ocean out by you. I’ve kind of grown numb to it out here. Hard to tell what’s good anymore when you eat it almost every day. Still, I’m glad this is special for you!”

“If I ever get sick and tired of steak, that will be a sad day.”

“Oh man, don’t say that. Now you’re making me miss those Winhill ribeyes!”

“I’ll have to put it on the menu, then.”

Laguna paused, slowly chewing his food. “What do you mean?”

Squall swallowed hard. His heart skipped several beats. With a deep breath, he found clarity in his thoughts.

“It’ll be Raine’s anniversary in a month,” Squall said.

“Yeah....”

“You’re going to need a place to stay, right?”

Laguna nearly dropped his fork. “Wait, are you... do you want me to—”

“Rinoa suggested it. Said it would good for you to come out and visit instead of me coming out here all the time. That way you can... _we_ can visit her.” He brought his eyes to Laguna. “You don’t have to, but it’s an option.”

“You... truly want me to come over?”

“I’m already invading your life with these trips, so—”

“Squall, you’re not an invasion. I look forward to these visits. I... like to think you do, too. I don’t want it to be a hassle.”

His eyes fell. “Yeah... no, I do like coming out here. I wanted to return the favor, that’s all.”

After a moment, Laguna’s lips quirked to life. “Will I be able to see all the fur babies?”

“I’m sure they’ll love to have another person to pounce and slobber all over,” Squall muttered.

A half-hearted laugh escaped Laguna. “I hope they like me.”

“I’m sure they will.”

Their plates cleared and bottles emptied. Purple hues graced the sky as the sun retreated elsewhere.

“Thank you,” Laguna murmured. “For the invitation. That means a lot to me.”

“Yeah. Not a problem.”

“Do you, um... want any coffee? I think I might have some crumb cake leftover, too.”

“Coffee’s fine.”

As Laguna collected their plates and bottles to disappear back inside, Squall stared out at the water. A chill accompanied the perpetual breeze, eliciting him to flip his hoodie over his head and zip up his leather jacket. That biting cold wasn’t enough to sober him from his thoughts.

_This is okay,_ he reminded himself. _This is all going as well as you can hope for. This... this is what it_ _’s like to.... Or maybe it’s not. How am I supposed to know? Or either of us, for that matter. Maybe I am botching this._ He sighed, more annoyed with himself than anything else. _But I wanted to do this. So did he. It_ _’s alright if it’s not perfect... right? It’s the thought that matters, or whatever Rinoa said. And it’s not going to do either of us any favors if we keep dwelling on the past, but easier said than done. Things would have been different if... if he had... if we had—_

“Here you go!”

A rich aroma filtered through his nostrils. Laguna extended the cup along with a small plate of what he assumed to be the aforementioned crumb cake. Once more they sat beside one another to savor dessert and tranquility.

“I know it’s probably not as good as what you get back home,” Laguna mentioned after a sip of coffee, “but hopefully it passes for you.”

Perhaps it wasn’t as bold and smooth as Squall was accustomed to, but there was no denying the fresh quality of the brew. “It’s good,” he said, cradling the mug to his cheek.

Laguna smiled softly. “Great. I’m glad.”

As Laguna devoured his share, Squall continued to gaze at his untouched plate. It wasn’t until his mug lost its initial warmth that he mustered the strength to simply say it.

“I’m sorry,” Squall murmured.

No reply. Not at first.

“Is... is something wrong?” Laguna tried to catch his eye. “Do you want me to remake the coffee?”

“No, it’s fine. I....” _Why is this harder than it needs to be? I could_ _’ve just kept my mouth shut, but...._ “I’m just... sorry.”

“For what?”

“For being difficult.”

His doubts anticipated the silence, but nothing prepared Squall for the arm wrapping around his shoulders.

“Hey,” Laguna said, almost as soothing as the lull of the waves, “it’s alright. Trust me. Nothing about any of this is easy. I know. But don’t start thinking that you’re making it worse, because you’re not. Besides, didn’t we promise not to get hung up on the what-ifs on all this? We wanted a fresh start without any burdens and _you_ , Squall, are not a burden.”

“Doesn’t excuse me for some of the shit I’ve pulled before.”

“Well, none of us are perfect. We all make mistakes.”

“But you didn’t deserve any of that.”

“Any of what?”

“Back when we first met on the bridge? Back when I told you to get out of my life?” Squall dared to meet Laguna’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Laguna blinked. The remaining light glimmered against the tears forming there.

“I’m sorry, too,” he replied.

Squall raised an eyebrow. “For what?”

“For not being around when you needed it the most.”

“I guess I got by alright.”

“But I want more for you than _getting by alright_. I want you to be happy and to flourish. I want the stars and moon for you and more. And maybe I can’t do that anymore, but hearing about your life with Rinoa? With all those fluffy butts? And the actual kiddos looking up to you? Hell, the whole town looking to you? That warms my heart. And if I just have to experience it vicariously through you with your occasional visits, then I’ll die happy.”

“It’s... really not that much.”

“Oh sure, it’s not saving the world from a hellbent sorceress. You could probably juggle those puppies in your sleep. But you’re free and safe and loved. I don’t expect you to become the next president; I just want you to live, instead of merely surviving. And you’re doing that and more. That makes me so proud of you, Squall.”

His heart rocketed into his throat; he almost forgot to breathe. “You mean that?”

“Yeah, of course. Why wouldn’t I? Besides....” Laguna swayed with him. “You’re my son, after all.”

Those words... the ones he needed to hear a decade ago, not now. Maybe life would have been different if he heard them then. Or maybe his path would veer away from the man he needed to be in order to face Ultimecia. It didn’t matter, in a sense, what could have happened back then. What mattered the most was sitting beside Laguna in the present moment, basking in the twilight skies, warm coffee, and each other’s company. All the animosity, all the confusion, all the fear... it bled away to pave a new path, one they couldn’t walk down together any other way.

Squall smiled and leaned into him. “Thanks, Dad.”


End file.
